Sugar, Spice, and Everything Nice

Dear Reader,

This story has been an obsession of mine for the last few weeks. It is different from my other stories but just as romantic as the rest. Please leave comments!

XOXO SkylerLuv

>>>

"What are we doing here, man?" Tucker complains again.

Ignoring him has become the norm tonight. He's in a foul mood and I'm not doing much better. But we both need to suck it up and throw back a few beers. Sure, this isn't our typical scene. And sure, girls in this bar have completely different tastes than we do, but it is only for one night. Will it really kill us?

"Shut up and drink your beer." My tone is gruff.

"Don't tell me what to do." He drinks anyway.

His sweater is probably making him hotter than he's like. But he refuses to take it off, almost certain that we will be leaving soon. He has just retwisted his dreadlocks and would rather show it off to a specific type of crowd. Not the younger one we're in. That is what we get when we live in a college town. Every place is infested with fresh-eyed innocence.

Tucker is on the prowl. He actually likes socializing and talking to people, unlike myself. He wants to impress some girls tonight, but not any girls here. Almost the complete opposite. Whereas in the past we could have gotten away with meeting one girl and having a one-night stand, it is becoming harder to find genuine people who are into our lifestyle.

We met at a specialty club, The Black Cat, out of town that suits our darker needs. After seeing each other there a few times it was almost guaranteed that we would eventually talk and become acquainted. And when we did, and realized we were similar in a lot of ways, we figured having a friend who was in on a secret part of our lives would do us good. It's not like I can turn to the guy next to me and ask his favorite type of gag. Not that Tucker and I get into those types of conversation anyways.

We don't hang out all the time or even spend much time talking outside of the club. But it does mean that we keep an eye out for each other and feel a little less alone in this hick town. Admittedly, Tucker has more of a life than I do. He was a college athlete and still plays football for a local adult league. He's over six feet tall, dark skinned, and full of muscles. He's a real eye candy for the girls wherever he goes. But he also has a solid job and friends that he hangs out with.

I, on the other hand, have very few people I like to spend my time with and even fewer activities outside of acquiring a new sub to play with. I work as a personal trainer, so I am fit but not nearly as Tucker. And although I am also over six feet tall, I am still shorter than him. My olive skin and shoulder length dark hair give away my Italian roots. Girls always label me as the bad boy, with my leather jacket, motorcycle, and combat boots. But they can never truly decipher just how dangerous I truly am.

A short strand of hair escapes from my bun and I swipe it behind my ear. It is packed tonight and the heat is going up a notch. I motion to the bartender another drink and she gives me a sexy little smile. She has been looking at Tucker and me with googly eyes from the moment we sat down. Tucker has been complaining the whole time but even if he was interested, he wouldn't go for her. We both know we have to be very discrete and selective when hooking up with girls in town. My mother would have a heart attack if she knew the type of shit I liked to get into.

It is a small enough town that word would spread like wildfire and even my father, who is always glued to the TV, would know about my extracurricular activities by the end of the day. Which brings us back to Tucker's questions. Why are we here? We could be at The Black Cat, knowing that we wouldn't be leaving the place alone.

"Warren, if I knew I was going to spend the night being giggled over, I would have stayed my ass home." He shakes his head as he finishes the last of his beer.

"I thought it would be good to have a change of scenery for once." I bullshit through my teeth.

In reality, I want to avoid The Black Cat for a few weeks if I can help it. My last sub, Macy, has promised to make my life a living hell for breaking off our arrangement. If it were up to her, we would still be seeing each other every weekend. Playing for hours on end and spending even more time together than we already were. But the telltale signs were getting harder and harder to ignore. She wanted more than I was willing to offer. She wanted a permanent dom, maybe even a boyfriend.

Something I cannot offer.

When I tried to pull back, it was too late. She cried and cried and then threatened me. She would tell everyone what a horrible dom I had been. How I ignored her needs and treated her like a toy. I knew she was speaking from a place of hurt, but it was still unsettling to think that others may believe her. I've had other subs that could speak up and put the lies to rest but I didn't want them to have to defend me. Anyone getting caught in our drama will just come out worse from it.

I picture Macy's glossy pink lips going from table to table, couple to couple, sub to sub and letting me have it. Her blond hair and huge tits would be all over other doms as soon as I walked in the club. I just know it. And although I want nothing serious with her, a part of me will be annoyed to see another person with her.

So, what better way to ensure that I won't have to run into her than to come to a local bar in town?

"Are you going soft on me?" He leans against the bar and looks at me with genuine concern.

"I don't know, do you want to find out?" I bite through my teeth.

He laughs and slaps my back. I feel the blow through the leather jacket but ignore it. Just like I've been ignoring his prissy mood.

"Okay, one more beer and then I'm out." He motions for the bartender and she eagerly rushes up to us.

He's all sweet smiles and charming words.

I shake my head, knowing it will all lead to nothing.

"You're still going to go there, aren't you?" My thumb runs against the cool lip of the bottle.

"Of course, just like you should be." He sighs. "What is up with you? I'm not one to get in anyone's business but tonight is a cry for help if I ever heard one." He points to a group of girls at the other end of the bar, smiling at us.

It is hard not to roll my eyes. I guess I did forget how annoying regular bars are.

"Nothing is wrong." I lie again. But he doesn't buy it. "Just... avoid Macy if you see her."

He nods in understanding. "I told you she was crazy."

That is mild coming from him. But he did warn me. He heard from other doms that she was hard to be with. Not only for the reason that I ended things but also because she sometimes took things too far. I didn't heed the warnings since I thought I could set realistic expectations but that is what I get. I'm still fairly new to the scene and I'll just have to take this one to the chin.

"She's just dealing with her own shit." I try not place all the blame on her.

"Yeah, right." He sarcastically nods.

The girl next to me shifts again in her seat. She has been fidgeting all night. Scooting one way, then another. Apologizing quietly when her tiny elbow digs into my rib. If I was in a really foul mood, I would stare her down. But I don't have the energy to spend it on intimidating a freshman.

"That's pretty cool." She says to the person next to her. "Who knew that UFOs are more prominent in deserted areas."

Yikes.

Her date sounds about as refreshing as a bottle of Clorox.

Tucker finishes his beer and pats me on the back. "I'll let you know if Macy has started her 'I hate Warren' campaign."

"Thanks." I dap him up before he leaves.

The girl next to me shifts again and this time I turn to gently remove her knee from my lower thigh.

"Sorry, sorry!" She shifts away.

She's a tiny thing.

I stare down at the top of her brunette head, slightly bent over her drink. She's wearing a black turtleneck with dark jeans. Her already light skin, almost glows against the dark clothing. I notice the seat next to her is temporarily vacant.

"Fucking, idiot." She mumbles under her breath.

I clear my throat, hoping she is not talking about me.

She looks up for the first time and her pale blue eyes widen in response to my glare. It is a reaction I'm used to. Subs have a hard time meeting my eyes when I'm displeased. Deep in her mind she must hear warning bells. Even if she doesn't know who I am, her body has to have a sense of uneasiness. While Tucker would have had her smiling by the end of their interaction, I know I will leave her nervous at best.

"Sorry," She mumbles again. "Not you."

I grunt in agreement. Definitely not me.

"He's such a fucking tool." She motions to the seat next to her. "I'm debating on making a run for it now that he's in the restroom."

I go back to drinking my beer, letting her talk to her imaginary audience.

"What should I do?" She turns up to look at me.

My frown doesn't scare her away. She does shy away a bit, but still looks up expectantly.

"Do whatever you feel like doing." The words are foreign coming out of my mouth.

Tucker would have had a field day if he heard me say that. I'm one of the most controlling bastards he's ever met. He constantly lets me know. The fact that I try to control every aspect of my life is a reminder. And here I am telling this girl to do what she pleases. It is not my place though. I don't even know her.

"What I feel like doing is walking out of here and never talking to him again." She takes the final gulp of her drink before speaking again. "But what I really need is to get fucked, like really bad."

Her words send a spark of lust straight to my cock.

Back in my day, before I left for the army, I would have talked my way into her pants. The way she is staring up at me lets me know she would be open to some sweet talking. But this version of myself is not up for a quick fuck. I like to take my time. To invest in a future sub that I know will meet all of my needs just like I would meet hers. I don't even bother talking to girls that are not on the same page from the get-go. What the hell do I look like seducing a freshman like some creep?

If she were my sub, she wouldn't be here in the first place. I don't share and I definitely don't encourage one-night stands. Who knows what these little boys carry on the tip of their dick? She should also know better than to find some random guy to hook up with. Where are her friends? How can she be here alone and expect to leave with him alone? I think back to all the meaningless hookups I had and then nod. That is how.

"So, what should I do?" She poses the question again.

"I'm just trying to enjoy my beer." I shift away and continue drinking in silence.

"You're no help." She grumbles and then sits up straighter. "Hey," the guy comes back to sit next to her.

He tries to start up another conversation regarding dinosaurs this time but she cuts him off.

"Do you want to show me your place?" Her voice is rushed.

He's momentarily silent. I peak over and see his eyes travel down her body before nodding. He tries to be a gentleman and helps her with her jacket. Then he tells her he has to make a quick call to make sure his roommate isn't there. Double yikes. Having a roommate is a pain. I don't know how these college kids do it.

"Thanks for nothing." She shoots over her shoulder as she leaves.

"Hope you get laid." I lift my bottle to her retreating figure.

>>>

The next time I meet up with Tucker, he's in a much better mood.

I am too, until he mentions Macy.

"I don't know how you're going to come back from that one." He puts his locs up and follows me to the treadmill.

I've been trying to get him to come to my gym in the past but he already has a membership at another spot and he gets to work out at the same gym as his other teammates. Now that he's talking about Macy, I almost wished he would go back there. I don't want to feed into her cry for attention. But I also can't ignore my reputation being at stake.

"How bad is it?" I start the treadmill.

We both know how she gets.

"She was all over me man." He starts jogging.

Of course, she was.

"Just remember, you called her crazy." There is an uncomfortable feeling at the thought of Macy and Tucker. He's more friendly and will probably be a good dom for her. Does she deserve him though?

"Yeah, which is why I steered clear of her."

That makes me feel marginally better but still not the best.

I shake off thoughts of the crazy bombshell and start running quicker.

Nothing an ass kicking workout can't fix.

>>>

The elderly woman in front of me grunts again as she leans up.

"Two more and we are done for the day." I encourage her.

Her neon pink shirt has wet spots under her arms and down her back. It is hard not to want to go easy on her but she mentioned the doctor said this would help with her recent operation. If it were up to me, I would tell her to rest as much as she wants. She's probably already lived a good long while, why not rest for the remaining time?

"Easy for you to say." She mumbles but finishes the last two curl ups with no more complaints.

"You did it, Gigi." I hold my hand out for a high five.

She gives it to me, not too excitedly.

"I will see you next week." I walk her over to the water fountain.

"Not if I die before then." She responds as she usually does.

She's one of my favorite grouchy clients. Probably one of the few who see the good side of me without even asking for it. That is probably why I do it. It irks her more than it would a regular person. I'm half surprised she hasn't flicked me off after any of our sessions yet. One can only hope.

There is a soft laugh around the corner that catches my attention.

The gym is big enough that voices are turned into murmurs as I walk through. The big fans going off also add to the background noise, which is why I'm surprised I even caught it in the first place. I turn the corner, anticipating to see some girl I either went to high school with or hooked up with in the past.

Instead, I see the same little brunette from the bar. It's been maybe two weeks.

It shouldn't be so hard to believe that she works out, especially at this gym since it is one of the more popular ones, but I didn't take her for that type of girl. What type of girl did I take her for? I shake my head instead. It is just a surprise to see her at all.

She's leaning up against one of the machines, laughing at something the guy in front of her says.

He's overworking himself, making his muscles bulge but not actually doing anything substantial. He's also not the same guy from the bar. Her eyes are glued to his arms, appreciating the way they flex with each rep. She's not even trying to be slick about it. He knows she's checking him out and I'm sure he doesn't mind it.

Her workout gear is very typical of a college student. A random set of workout leggings and a sports bra. Her breasts are small but perky. Once or twice his gaze drops to her cleavage. She twirls the end of her ponytail with one finger and leans closer to him, whispering something. He stops his rep and gives her a knowing smile. He wastes no more time and gets up to head to the male locker room. She sits back and watches, still smiling.

My first instinct is to chuckle, yes chuckle-something I rarely do.

She is like a little vixen.

The chuckle dies in my throat when her head turns in my direction.

There is some recognition in her gaze. I expect her to look away or pretend that she didn't see me but instead she comes right up to me. I don't bother looking away, knowing I've been caught.

"How much of that did you catch?" She points back at the machine.

I shrug, unsure as to why she would assume that I would like to spend my break talking to her. Her face is small and pointy, like the rest of her figure.

She is a vixen.

Her blue eyes narrow and then she rolls them. "I need an outside perspective."

My arm sweeps around at the other people in the gym. "There are plenty of other people to ask."

"None of them were watching me as closely as you were." She challenges.

Fuck.

Her bratty tone hums through my veins, sending a mixed signal straight to my groin. I should be embarrassed that she caught me, but being a dom is an art. There are those who act like a dom. They say and do all of the right things that will have subs dripping in their panties. For me though, it comes as natural as breathing. I don't have to pretend because that is just who I am at my core. I don't shy away or get rattled easily.

Unfortunately, she is not my sub and I have no right to correct her wrong behavior.

"Do you think he wants to sleep with me?" She looks back at the men's locker room, waiting for him to come out.

"Is it that hard to believe?" I start walking away.

"Yes, actually." She follows me. "I've been working on myself this last semester of college."

Last? She's not a freshman. That is very hard to believe.

"I have this new motto to just go for whatever I want." She sounds proud of herself.

"Why are you telling me this?" I make my way to the 'staff only' door, hoping she does not follow.

"You seem like you don't give a shit." She shrugs. "And I think you are brutally honest, which can help me in the long run. I need complete honesty."

She definitely got the brutal part right.

"And why would I help you?" I turn to her, the door is a few steps away. My eyes travel down her soft curves, imagining her on her knees with nothing to say since my dick would be in her mouth.

Her eyes widen, as if she could see the same images in my head. Instead of scaring her away, like I would have liked, she contemplates my question seriously.

"We could fuck if you want." She shrugs.

"Jesus." I shake my head.

She truly will fuck anything in her way. If she were smarter, she would listen to the small fear at the base of her neck when I look at her the way I do. Can she not tell all of the twisted things I would do to her under me? Hell, over me too? I push the images out, not bothering to give them any more vacancy in my head.

"Okay, what else can I offer you?" She begins to doubt her ability to wrap men around her little finger. If only she knew that asking them to sleep is the easy part.

"Nothing." I go into the back room, relieved that she doesn't follow.

>>>

The noise coming from my mom's kitchen does nothing to take my dad's eyes away from the TV.

Pots and pans get tossed around, the refrigerator and oven compete for the number of times they'll be open and closed before the end of the day. My mom talks to my aunt about me and my lack of a girlfriend but I don't acknowledge it. For one, they're talking in Italian which means they don't want me to know what they're saying and two, it is a topic that must be brought up every Sunday that I show up without a girl. I pick up words here and there. I must be gay, or maybe I need some experimenting, or maybe I only like whores. My aunt throws out the same guesses every time, completely unoriginal.

There are kids everywhere. All my cousins either gather around a phone screen or talk shit to one another. My uncle joins us a little later with another cousin and his wife. It is a full house, but nothing I'm not used to. It's been this way since before I was born.

My father curses in Italian. His favorite team is letting him down. My uncle sits next to him, asking his wife to make them some coffee. Because yes, men are the head of the house and law of the land even if women are the oil machine that keep it running.

I've wondered in the past if that is why I'm a controlling asshole. If my reason for wanting to inflict pain and get off on denying a cute little sub an orgasm is rooted back to the way I've seen my father order my mom around. Then I remember that I'm a sick fuck and my father would never do to my mom what I do to my subs. Either way, I'm happy where I'm at and as long as it is consensual, I can accept my abnormal needs. It took some time, but I'm content with every part of myself now.